


Get Your Motor Runnin'

by hanktalkin



Series: You're Worth More than the Whole Lot of 'Em [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: 1960s Music, Anal Sex, Biting, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Public Nudity, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reliable Excavation and Demolition is Demoman's personal hell.</p><p>a prequel to The General’s Formals, I wanted to explore a little about how Demo and Soldier started their relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Your Motor Runnin'

Let’s have one thing be clear: Tavish Finnegan DeGroot was not a pecker peeper. Sure, the showers were communal, and sometimes he happened to go in at the same as another teammate, but he never actually _saw_ anything.

Or, well, he never _tried_ to see anything. Not seeing _anything_ was impossible because everyone was stark naked _all the time_ and even if you stared directly in front of you _eventually_ you were going to see something.

Mostly, he saw Sniper.

The Australian seemed to have no concept of public decency, even trying to strike up conversations while the both of them were wearing nothing but their birthday suits. It drove Demoman crazy, mostly because talking back broke every rule of Male Bathroom Etiquette he knew, and _not_ talking back was just rude on its own. He tried to keep the conversations between them brief, but Sniper never took the hint. Whenever he was caught alone with the other man, he took the fastest navy shower possible and hightailed it out of there. Sniper would soon emerge as well, not even bothering to put on a towel for the walk back to his camper.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was the Spy. (The Pyro wasn’t even on the spectrum, considering Demoman wasn’t sure there was even a body under that suit.) Spy, he was pretty sure, had an ass. And, like all asses, it needed to be washed. But Demoman never found Spy anywhere near the showers, and, after a few weeks of observation, he concluded that the Frenchman was taking showers at midnight, long after the rest of RED had retired. It wasn’t a bad idea, and Demoman wondered if he could do the same to minimize his own team bonding. But he didn’t have any air of secrecy like Pyro or Spy did; if he started disappearing for showers, the team would wonder what the hell made him so skittish. Plus, there was always the risk of seeing Spy, which would be even more awkward than Sniper’s small talk.

So he had to stick where he was and _definitely_ never look at anybody else. He was growing to like his new team, and he didn’t want them thinking he was a….

…Well. He just didn’t want to be rude is all.

Medic and Heavy both took a page from the same book, having the decency not to talk to him when they ran into each other. Engineer wasn’t as bad as Sniper, and, after a few failed conversations, actually did take the hint. Demoman overhead him and Scout talking about it one time, concluding it was “European thing.” He scoffed at that. If “not talking to another man while your bits are hanging out” was a cultural difference then he was really fucking glad this was the only shower he had to use.

Speaking of Scout.

Scout didn’t talk in the shower. Scout _sang_. Which, alright, at least he was just singing to himself, but the fact that he had the voice of an angel made it that much worse. Once, there were only three of them in the shower, and Scout was singing

_Yeah, darlin'_

_Gonna make it happen_

_Take the world in a love embrace_

_Fire all of your guns at once_

_And explode into space_

Demo was annoyed, but also enjoying it just a little, and he happened to look over at Scout just because the music was nice.

Scout’s head was down, letting the water run over the back of his head, washing the shampoo out. His hands were pressed up against the tile wall, fingers splayed, absorbed in the lyrics and enjoying the hot water that would soon be used up. One ankle was tucked behind the other, toe tapping to the beat. His spine was a perfect curve, all the way from his head to his-

Holy shit.

Demoman looked away. He had stared. He had stared for a good thirty seconds. Okay he still hadn’t seen anything (Scout was on the other wall, facing away from him), but the point was that he had _looked_. He splashed water in his face, reaffirming to himself that he wasn’t a pervert he had just been _listening_ and thank God Scout hadn’t turned around at all.

That didn’t mean his little slip-up had gone unnoticed.

As _Born to Be Wild_ rang through the steamy room, he remembered that he and Scout weren’t alone tonight. Turning his head ever so slightly, he was greeted with the sight of Soldier raising an eyebrow at him.

 _Holy shit_.

Had Soldier seen the whole thing? Of all the mercenaries, Demoman found _him_ the most intimidating. Sure Heavy stood a good head or two over the American, but he never seemed threatening off the battlefield. While Heavy liked to save his impressive strength and bloodlust exclusively for the BLUs, Soldier was a different story. His insatiable desire to have people listen to him didn’t stop inside the base, belittling and occasionally threatening his teammates when they didn’t standup to his ridiculous standards. All-in-all, Demoman liked to avoid him. And he was the _last_ person Demoman wanted suspicious about…certain things.

He snapped his head forward, intent on finishing his shower as fast as possible. Eyes still prickled the side of his head, but he resisted the urge to turn and see if Soldier was still scrutinizing him. Eventually, he couldn’t stand being in the humid room any longer. He didn’t even bother to towel off, just wrapping it around his waste as barreled to his room, the solo rock song trailing after him.

_Like a true natures child_

_We were born_

_Born to be wild_

_We can climb so high_

_I never wanna die_

_Born to be wild_

_Born to be wild_

* * *

Fuck fuck double fuck.

Demoman vomited into a bin. Legs wobbling a little, he rightened himself, looking around respawn and finding himself alone. That only lasted a few seconds; Medic popped into existence next to him, looking just as queasy as he felt. He kicked the bin toward the doctor, who collapsed and emptied the contents of his stomach into it.

“I hate this bloody thing,” the Demoman remarked.

Well, hate was a strong word. He knew respawn was incredibly useful, and the team relied on it in order to function, but that didn’t mean he found it pleasant. In fact, he felt much the same way about Spy.

Medic didn’t say anything, but he did nod. Most likely seeing if anything else wanted to remove itself from his digestive tract.

“They said we were supposed tae get used tae it, but it’s hard tae believe anyone can die on a daily basis and just be right as rainbows,” Demoman concluded. “Human beings just aren’t meant tae be put through this shite.”

“You would be surprise at what humanity can adapt to, mein friend,” Medic told the bin.

Demoman frowned at the nauseated doctor. “How you manage tae fit bein’ both friendly and creepy in the same sentence, I’ll never figure.”

Medic chuckled, and let Demoman help him to his feet. They made their way back to point A, point B still held down firmly by the Engineer. Demoman found he didn’t like Gravel Pit, as he was just getting used to the sewers and corridors of 2Fort when they changed bases. Not that they had much choice: RED went where BLU went, their efforts necessary in stopping…whatever it is BLU wanted to do.

“Who got you?” Demoman asked, peeking about a corner.

“BLU Scout. They mounted a push, but considering I am the only causality, it must have failed.” Medic was the BLU’s favorite punching bag; everywhere he went there was a target on his back or a sniper dot on his head. Demoman was not the best at protecting the doctor, but he was capable enough to escort him the short distance to A. “And what of you? Weren’t you with the Engineer?”

“Er, sorta. I was layin’ some traps in the tunnels when I ran into their Spy. Thought it was Pyro.”

Medic clicked his tongue. “You should not be off on your own. You are defense, yes? Do not go running around trying to win this singlehandedly.”

“Hey, I dunnae tell you how tae do your job. Dunnae tell me how tae do mine.”

Despite his annoyance, Demoman knew Medic was right. He had been avoiding the central battles, mainly because that was where Soldier always was. It was stupid, selfish, and he always ended up seeing him later anyways, but he couldn’t stand being in sight of the other mercenary.

Any positive feelings he had for Soldier evaporated during the few months since the shower incident. Okay, perhaps “incident” was a strong word, considering Soldier never even said anything to him, but the Demoman could tell he was suspicious. What other reason could there be for Soldier’s sudden change in behavior?

Sometimes, Demoman would catch Soldier staring at him during meals. When he noticed Demoman glaring back, Soldier merely grinned, as though they were just having a friendly chat. He had to be planning some sort of blackmail. Either that, or he was waiting to for actual evidence to get Demoman thrown out of RED. The American made it very clear that he didn’t like foreigners (as evidenced by his derogatory names for most members of the team) and Demoman was growing keenly aware he fell into that category. Extortion was the only explanation, but it just didn’t fit right with what he knew about Soldier. Even though the man was loud and obnoxious, he seemed adverse all things “spy related”, and considered them cowardly. Plus, Demoman didn’t think he was multifaceted enough for such a thing.

As if summoned by Demoman’s inner thoughts, Soldier fell from the sky with a **CRUNCH** of breaking ankles.

Annoyed, Medic turned the healing beam on him.

“Thanks Doc,” Soldier greeted cheerily.

“Hm,” was all Medic responded.

Soldier turned the Demoman. “Engie wants you back on B, Cyclops. I can handle escorting Pumpkin here back to the front lines.”

At the nickname, Medic’s mouth turned into a hard line. His job was a hard one, the modicum of respect he gained from the team one of the few perks. Soldier never delivered on that account.

“Aye, sure,” Demoman said, shifting back and forth on his feet. _Cyclops_ irritated him just as much as _Pumpkin_ irritated Medic, but he was loath to start a fight. It one thing when he referred to himself as Cyclops, but hearing the insult come from a teammate was somehow more hurtful than when the BLUs slung it at him. “Good luck lads.”

“Thank you! Good luck yourself, and watch your back!” Soldier replied. And, Demoman must have been loosing his goddamned mind, because he was certain Soldier _winked_ as he said it.

He blinked as he watched Medic and Soldier retreat. Was that just another way to mock him? Pointing out he wasn’t able to wink himself? If it was an insult, it was a very strange one. But, as Demoman made his way back to point B, he found he couldn’t get it off his mind.

* * *

They lost the day.

Engineer’s sentry began sparking mere seconds before the enemy Heavy and Medic burst from the tunnels. As soon as Engineer was able to pry the sapper off, the pair popped their Uber, and RED was outnumbered three-to-one as the entire BLU team swarmed B. After that, it was a scramble to build a nest back up again, BLU team eventually capping the final point.

The mess hall was quiet that night, though not because of the day’s loss. Demoman watched Sniper grab a bowl of greasy stew before retreating to his van, leaving only four members of RED in the hall. Scout ate his stew quietly. Apparently, he only ever stopped talking when he was preoccupied with stuffing his face. Engineer was reading at the table, an act that would have gotten Demoman a wrap across the knuckles back in the orphanage. That left Demoman and Soldier, the former working very hard to avoid the eyes of the later.

Scout offered to clean up, something that usually provided Demoman a distraction after supper. Damn Scout’s mother for teaching him such good manners.

Thankfully, there wasn’t a card game tonight either, and it was socially acceptable for Demoman to return to his room. He was almost to the hallway when Soldier ambushed him.

“Nice try today private!” He said, slapping Demoman on the back. “Engineer said you took down three BLUs before going down yourself!”

“Uh-huh,” Demoman said, shrugging the arm off.

“Of course, it would have better if you actually defended the point. But hey, you win some you loose some, right Cyclops?”

That was it. After a long day, an awful loss, and a shitty dinner, Demoman wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. He didn’t need this piece of shit, not only acting all buddy-buddy with him, but implying he somehow should have defeated the entirety of BLU team on his own. This was the last bloody straw.

He shoved Soldier against the wall, getting right into his face. With a snarl, he used his few inches of extra height to make himself as threatening as possible. “ _Do. Nae. Call. Me. Cyclops._ ”

He breathed into Soldier’s face, shoulders heaving with rage. It took him a few seconds to realize this was exactly what Soldier was waiting for. He had goaded Demoman into a meltdown, and now all he had to do was smirk and reveal what he knew.

Instead, he blinked. “Why not?”

Of all the reactions, Demoman had not expected that one. “… _What_?”

“Everyone else gets a nickname. Why not you?”

“Because…” Demoman honestly didn’t have an answer.

“I do not want you think I appreciate you any less than the rest of the team.”

“Wait…are you tellin’ me, that you give us nicknames because you _like_ us?”

“Affirmative!”

Well. That certainly explained things. Demoman smacked himself mentally for the mistake. How had he been so stupid? Soldier wasn’t a conniving weasel; he was just a…dolt.

“Can you let go of me now?”

Demoman’s hands were still tangled in the front of Soldier’s shirt. He dropped his teammate, mad at himself and his own paranoia. The other man looked uncomfortable to say the least, and maybe a bit sheepish.

As Demoman rubbed the bridge of his nose, he heard Soldier say, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I did not know it mad you angry.”

“’O course it makes me angry,” Demoman snapped. “Do you think I _like_ bein’ reminded o’ me own ugly mug?”

Soldier frowned. “Do not say that. You are not at all ugly.”

Demoman only blinked at that, not really sure what he meant.

Soldier looked terribly awkward all of the sudden. “And uh, sorry again. I know I put my foot in my mouth sometimes, but I want you to know you are a valuable member of this team. And I, uh, just wanted to say good work today. Goodnight Demoman.” Soldier then sprinted off down the hallway towards his own room.

Demoman stared after him. How he had been intimidated by that man was anyone’s guess.

* * *

After he concluded he had nothing to fear from the Soldier, Demoman was able to return to a normal shower routine. Previously, he had been pulling a Spy, taking showers when the rest of the team was in for the night. Of course, since Spy was also pulling a Spy, they ran into each other on occasion, and it was just as awkward as Demoman thought it would be. But now he could relax, and he would never have to have a weird shower experience again.

Two weeks later, he walked in on Soldier.

Soldier was completely alone, and worse, he was humming, something Demoman thought only Scout did. Despite assurances that he and the Soldier were good, he still felt the best thing to do was leave right now, retreat, evacuate the premises-

Soldier turned and saw him. He gave a little wave, then went back to scrubbing his scalp.

Great.

Demoman dropped his towel on the wall opposite Soldier. He hopped his teammate would finish quickly; then he could relax without that insipid humming.

The minutes seemed to drag on forever. He glared at the tile wall in front of him, finding patterns in the simple decorations, just to keep his mind occupied. How long was Soldier going to take? And was it Demoman’s imagination, or was the humming getting louder?

He risked a glance over his shoulder and _holy shit Soldier was staring at him._

Still humming, Soldier caught Demoman’s gaze in his own. He grinned. And then he winked.

As Soldier turned to face his own wall, Demoman stared at him open mouthed, not processing what had just occurred. Soldier had obviously been staring at him but _why_? Was he trying to catch Demoman in the act?

That wasn’t fair, Demoman had been minding his own business this time, not like when he had stared at Scout, but that time was a mistake considering Soldier was much fitter than Scout and he should have been looking at him inste-

NO! Nope! Absolutely not!

Not caring that he was still soapy, Demoman turned off the water and rushed into the hallway, barely remembering to grab his towel.

What had he done to deserve this?

* * *

Now he had a whole new reason to avoid Soldier. Shower incident #2 left him with a lot of confused feelings, and he responded as he always did: _let’s repress this immediately_. Of course that meant drinking, but somehow the whiskey made it worse because then he was confused _and_ horny.

Sometimes during dinner he’d catch himself looking at Soldier, remembering how defined his hip bones were, his well tones thighs, the way the water ran off his shoulder blades…

Reliable Excavation and Demolition had turned into literal hell.

“You must pull yourself together. You are becoming an embarrassment,” Medic told him one day when he found him smashing his head against a wall.

“What are you, me therapist?” he asked the dented drywall.

“Nein. If I were your therapist, I would be asking you what is wrong. Instead, I am your Medic, and I’m telling you to get your over enlarged pustule of an ego under control. Whatever he has done, it cannot be that bad.”

Medic had put two and two together sometime after the incident. He was equal parts considerate and naggy, acting like an overly nosey father who wanted his son to get his life back on track. It wasn’t even like the Demoman wasn’t doing his job this time: his excessive drinking merely offended Medic’s sensibilities.

It came to a head that night when Demoman walked in on Medic tearing the Mickey out of Soldier.

“And if you have _done_ something to jeopardize inter-team relations-”

As Demoman stepped into the kitchen, Medic snapped his mouth shut, like he was gossiping at the back of the class instead of yelling at his coworker. Medic shot Soldier a meaningful glare before stalking out the kitchen in a fit. Apparently, Medic said _something_ to let Soldier know it was his fault, because the next time Demoman saw him he was sheepishly walking down the hall holding a bottle of brandy.

“Hello Demoman,” he said, as if they talked all the time and he wasn’t carrying around a bottle of alcohol with a bow on it. “I have a present for you.”

“Wonderful,” Demoman replied blandly. “Is it a pair o’ gold plated earrin’s?”

Soldier looked down at the bottle in his hand. “Uh…no.”

“Just say what you want tae say, Soldier. I havnae got all night.”

Taking a deep breath, Soldier thrust the bottle forward. “This is for you. I wanted to say I was sorry again for calling you names before. So I got it to make it up to you. I hope you like it.”

Demoman eyed the bottle skeptically. “You wanted tae say you’re sorry, and you thought the best way tae do that was buying me cheap booze?”

“Oh,” Soldier said, slowly retracting the brandy. “I uh…actually did not know what to get you. I do not know much about you besides that you are an alcoholic.” Before Demoman could come back with a bitter retort, Soldier rushed his last sentence all at once. “Butidliketogettoknowyoubetter.”

“… _What_?” Demoman asked. That was not at all what he was expecting.

“I said I’d like to get to know you better,” Soldier repeated, slower, like Demoman hadn’t understood.

Slowly, Soldier’s words reached the very recesses of the Demoman’s brain. Things started coming back to him: the winking, the stolen glances, the overt cheerfulness. Finally, he was able to put the pieces together. “Now hold on just a bloody minute. Are you… _flirtin’_ with me?”

“Yes!” Soldier replied, relieved to finally have it out in the open. He then paused, suddenly worried. “I mean, if that’s okay?”

“I…suppose. It’s just a bit sudden, is all.”

“Sudden? I have been flirting with you for the past four months! I winked all the time! The winking usually works…”

Demoman massaged his temples. Even when he thought he had it all figured out, the bombastic American threw him for a loop. Even now he wasn’t sure what he really wanted from the mercenary, whether he wanted Soldier to just leave him alone or…

“So do you want this?” Soldier asked, shaking the brandy once again.

Looking at the bottle, Demoman shook his head. “Nah, that brand’s crap. I have better stuff in me room anyways. C’mon,” he said, turning down the hallway.

He only made it a few feet before noticing Solider wasn’t following. Glancing over his shoulder, hew saw that the other man was rooted to the spot, blushing furiously.

“That wasnae a- _Jesus Soldier_. I was just sayin’ we should talk this over a couple o’ bottles.”

“Oh. Okay. Just making sure.” Soldier followed him through the base, rubbing the embarrassment out of his cheeks.

Taking a moment to dump the clothing off it, Demoman pulled out a chair for the other mercenary. He then grabbed his Secret Stash from under the bed, a pointless hiding spot since the only one who went poking around in other people’s rooms was the Spy, and he had no interest in anything that wasn’t French and crushed with someone’s left foot. Demoman tossed a bottle to Soldier, who dropped it, and plopped on the bed as Soldier recovered.

“So,” he said after an extended drink, “you like me.”

It was a rhetorical question, but Soldier nodded all the same. “Affirmative.”

“Why? Like you said yourself, you barely know anythin’ about me.”

“Well…I know _some_ stuff about you. You like to fight, and you make good explosives, and you don’t take any nonsense when it comes to the art of war. And…” Soldier looked down at his open bottle. “And there was a chance you could like me back.”

“I do like you Soldier.” And that wasn’t too far from the truth. Despite not being able to spit it out, Soldier was charming in his own way. Much like the way a puppy that keeps tripping over it’s own ears is charming.

“You do?” Soldier asked perplexed.

“But Jesus man, you think you couldnae’ve told me all that stuff right away? I thought you were plannin’ on blackmailin’ me!”

“What? Blackmail you? Why would I…Oh.” Soldier rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’m… not good with talking.”

“You’re tellin’ me!” Demoman said with a snort, tossing back for another swig. “Next time, actions speak louder than winks, aye?”

“Understood,” Soldier replied self-consciously.

They sat in Demoman’s room for a while, sipping the last of their whiskey.

“Speakin’ o’ action.” That got Soldier’s attention. “I like you, you like me, we’re sittin’ here, drunk and alone in me room. I think it’s about time we did somethin’ about that.”

Soldier went pale. “I thought you said…”

“I ken what I said. But frankly, for the past few days me body’s been tryin’ tae kill me, and if I dunnae do somethin’ about it, I’m gunna fuckin’ explode. Besides,” Demoman added, depositing his empty bottle on the floor, “wasnae this where you wanted this tae go?”

“Y-yes!” Soldier stammered. “It is just…an hour ago, I did not even know you liked me.” He clutched his own empty bottle nervously, trying to maintain eye contact with the Demoman.

Demoman didn’t say anything to that. Either Soldier wanted to do this or he didn’t, and Demoman wasn’t going to sway him either which way. Hesitating, Soldier ran his eyes up and down the Scotsman, the want he had been harboring for the past few months now banging to get free.

And now the ball was in his court. If he wanted this, the time was now. Mustering all of his courage, he stood, stepping in front of the bed and standing in between Demoman’s legs. Cautiously, he placed a hand in the middle of the other man’s chest.

“Alright. I’m game.”

Demoman grinned briefly before Soldier’s lips were on his own. Soldier used the kiss to push Demoman backwards onto the bed, shoving him onto the mattress. Once he was lying completely horizontal, Demoman scooted away from the edge, bringing the pair to the center of the bed. Soldier deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Demoman’s mouth. They both tasted of whiskey, but were more intoxicated on each other than anything.

After a few seconds of exploring each other, Soldier pulled back. “Is this…alright?”

It took Demoman a moment to figure Soldier was referring to their positions. He laughed. “This is fine. Under one condition.” He grabbed the front of Soldier’s shirt, pulling him in close again. “You gotta fuck me intae the mattress as hard as humanly possible.”

He didn’t even give Soldier a chance to respond before he was drawing the American in for another rough kiss. Maybe that was all the encouragement Soldier needed because only a few seconds later Demoman’s shirt was being yanked off of him, and his undershirt too. With a frustrated grunt, Soldier sat up, tugging at Demoman’s belt buckle.

A pause in the onslaught allowed Demoman to look up at the man on top of him. This was what he was denying himself when he was pointedly Not Looking in the showers. He could see the incredible muscles showing through Soldier’s t-shirt, the powerful shoulders barely contained in the thin cotton. Demoman wanted nothing more than to tear that shirt off him.

But he would have to wait. Soldier was still preoccupied with getting Demoman’s pants off, finally pulling down the fly after twelve seconds of fumbling and quiet cursing. The boxers and pants came down in one swoop, and there was a brief pause in the action as Soldier very poignantly stared at Demoman’s dick.

“Somethin’ the matter, boyo?” Demoman teased. “A minute ago you were rarin’ tae go.”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” Soldier gulped. “I’m just really glad I’m not bottoming right now.”

Demoman laughed. “I dunnae blame you, it can be a lot tae take in. But I tell you what,” he said, leaning up on his elbow and brushing his lips against Soldier’s ear, “if I ever do fuck you, I promise tae do it very sweetly.”

He felt Soldier’s face go warm where it was pressed against his cheek. He chuckled, and wasted no time in pulling off Soldier’s shirt. Getting the pants off was more difficult as Soldier began sucking at his neck while he worked, but he managed to fight through the intense pleasure at his collarbone to liberate his prize.

He was just about to tell Soldier that he had nothing to sneeze at either, when a sharp pain erupted at his neck.

“Ach!” he yelped.

Soldier pulled back immediately, tensing in fear. “Oh. Oh! God, I’m sorry, I got carried away I did not mean-”

“Are you kiddn’?” Demoman asked, touching the bite mark lightly. “ _Do that again_.”

It only took a second for Solider to process that. Hesitantly, still surprised Demoman wasn’t mad, Soldier leaned forward to place a few nips along his exposed clavicle. Taking the pleased moans as encouragement, he began biting down harder.

“Jesus and his twelve apostles,” Demoman swore. He began bucking his hips, grinding Soldier’s length against his own. “Feel free tae break skin if you want.”

Solider wasn’t really sure if he should be hurting a partner like this, but if Demoman was asking for it…

“Fuck!” Demoman shouted as Solider sunk his teeth all the way in.

It had been long enough. Demoman was sick of being so close to the edge, and he was sick of being alone. He shoved his shoulder upward, creating just enough space between him and Soldier to roll over onto his stomach. Soldier immediately leaned over him, switching attention to his other shoulder and rubbing against his buttocks. Just about to loose himself to the wonderful pain along his neckline, Demoman felt Soldier falter.

“We are…going to need… _stuff_ for this, right?” Soldier asked hesitantly.

Demoman laughed. “Well I wasnae plannin’ on goin’ dry creek. Bottle’s under the bed.”

Leaning over the edge, Soldier managed to grab the lid of Other Secret Stash and its more lewd contents. It included piles of tissues, hand lotion, bottle of lube, and large rubber dildo to complete the gentleman’s emergency relief kit. Soldier raised an eyebrow.

Demoman shrugged. “Like I said. It’s been a rough couple o’ weeks.”

Tossing the rest of the box aside, Solider began warming the lube up in his fingers. One hand trailed down Demoman’s spine while the other spread his cheeks apart, exposing him to the warm of the room. Solider dipped a finger inside the Scotsman, working him open as his other hand massaged his vertebrae. Demoman missed the love bites peppering his shoulders, but this was creating gratification all on its own.

“Harder,” he mumbled.

“I’m not even doing anything yet,” Soldier chuckled as he slipped a second finger inside. “But I promise I’ll make good as soon as I can. Alright, Scotty?”

Demoman’s eye snapped open. “Oh, _absolutely not_ ,” he growled at the awful new nickname.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Soldier conceded, scissoring Demoman open just enough to fit the third finger. “What do you want me to call you then?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of somethin’.” Demoman’s voice was thick with effort of not crying out, speaking and being stretched at the same time taking its toll. “‘Demoman’ is fine for now.”

“Mm.”

Soldier curled his fingers back, sending waves through the Demoman’s body. He brought his knees up to his elbows, rocking back onto the digits in slow thrusts. It didn’t even matter anymore if Soldier thought he was needy; he just wanted to be fucked. Now.

Teeth sunk into the back of his neck, distracting him and throwing him off his rhythm. The bite turned into a soft kiss as the fingers withdrew, leaving him open and wanting. There was a distinctive sound of Soldier slathering more lube onto his cock, and Demoman pulled a pillow toward himself in preparation.

“If you’re tryin’ tae get me tae beg, it’s nae gunna work,” he said into the pillow.

To his surprise, Soldier’s rough voice chuckled right into his ear. Instead of responding, Soldier bit his earlobe, making him yelp. Any protest he might have had was washed away when the beginnings of an eight-inch cock forced itself inside him.

What might have been a scream escaped into the pillow, the sensation of being filled overpowering any pain he had in his marked shoulders. It hurt in the way your lungs burn after a hard run, a stinging, biting sensation that made his toes curl and fingers grip the sheets. He wanted to give Soldier some form of encouragement, but he knew if he picked his head off the pillow he’d end up waking the whole base. Instead, the pushed himself back the last few inches, legs twitching, stomach muscles so taunt they ached, until he could feel Soldier’s balls bump against his backside.

After a few seconds of stillness, he realized Soldier was nibbling at his back, probably leaving marks all along his spine.

“I cannae believe you made me smash me face against a wall when we could’ve been doin’ this,” he said, managing to find his voice.

“What?” Soldier asked against his skin.

“Nevermind, just go.”

A hand reached around Demoman’s front, fingernails sinking into the hard abdominal muscles. Once he was secure, Soldier pulled out…

And slammed back hard.

Demoman remembered to bite the pillow just in time. His cry came out a muffled grunt, a murmur compared to the moans that came after that. Each time Soldier pulled out and back in again he thought he couldn’t do it any harder, but each time he was wrong. His whole body quaked under the assault, each fucking him into the mattress. You get what you ask for, after all.

Instead of peppering his shoulders with love bites, Soldier was chomping down on a single spot, breaking skin and drawing blood. A few drops dribbled onto the sheets but Demoman couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Harder,” he said in between groans.

This time Soldier wasn’t sure if he meant the thrusts or the biting, so he settled for both. Demoman moaned appreciatively, reaching an arm over his shoulder to grab Soldier’s hair. Soldier returned in kind, slipping his hand around the other man’s cock. It was leaking precum onto the bed, lurching to life under the surprisingly gentle touch. Demoman was trapped between wanting to jerk forward into that wonderful palm or backwards where Soldier was hitting him so good.

Sweat stung his bite marks and the scratches along his stomach, the effort of doing both exhausting him. He was also getting close, his cock weeping into Soldier’s warm hand.

“Soldier I’m…” he managed before being pulled away into another groan.

Soldier nodded, teeth still clenched on his teammate’s shoulder. He increased his pace on both accounts, plowing into the Demoman just as he gave the last few tugs.

They came at nearly the same time. Demoman spattered the sheets, his prick sandwiched between the bed and his own stomach. He could feel the Soldier spasming, behind him, adding his seed to Demoman’s already full rectum.  
Pulling his head off the pillow, Demoman was able to take in a clear breath for the first time in what seemed like ages. He could hear Soldier breathing too, having taken his mouth off the hard-won bite mark. His teammate’s forehead was pressed to his back, breath strangely cool against the sweat-spattered skin. With a sigh, he relaxed.

He didn’t move much as Soldier withdrew himself, opting to lie there like a sack of potatoes. At some point, Soldier grabbed the tissues from the box and cleaned him up, the delicate touches strange compared to the assault he had just endured. With a grunt, Soldier flopped next to him. The bed let off a squeak of protest, the poor springs not used to such abuse.

“So,” Soldier said, “I guess we did something about it, didn’t we?”

Demoman opened his eye. He didn’t know if he could say anything right now. If he tipped Soldier off on how absolutely wrecked he was, the other man might try to go easy on him next time.

Soldier shook him slightly. “Demoman? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Demoman managed. “I just…havnae been fucked like that in ages.”

The truth was he had never been fucked quite that hard, but he didn’t want that going to Soldier’s head.

“Oh. Okay. That’s good. I think.” Soldier pulled a pillow towards him, suddenly sounding very tired. “Mind if I stay the night?”

Demoman turned his head to face the Soldier. Already he had pulled the blanket over himself, snuggling deep into the mattress. His eyes were half closed, blue glass reflecting the moonlight. A yawn came over him.

“Doesnae look like I could stop you if I tried.”

Soldier’s eyes opened slightly, worry crossing his face. “If you do not want me to, I understand. I can just go-”

Before Demoman realized it, Soldier was already halfway out of bed. Demoman grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards into an embrace.

“That was a _joke_ you daft dolt. C’mere.” Demoman wrapped his arms around the Soldier who, surprisingly, relaxed immediately. Soldier wriggled into the other man’s arms, letting off a contented sigh. “And you’re welcome tae come back anytime.”

Demoman shifted onto his less damaged shoulder. The bites would disappear as soon as he went through respawn tomorrow, or even if Medic gave him a pre-game overheal. The thought saddened him a little, but he knew that this sort of relationship wasn’t the kind you could flaunt in front of your coworkers. Soldier yawned.

“Dinnae take you for a cuddler,” Demoman told the back of his neck.

“Mm,” Soldier replied. “Yeah. Well. I’m full of surprises.”

“You can say that again,” Demoman chuckled. He kissed Soldier’s neck, slow and sleepy. “Night Soldier.”

“Goodnight Sweetheart.”

“Uhg, nae _Sweetheart_. You call Medic _Sweetheart_. He’s the last person I want tae be thinkin’ o’ right now.”

Demoman drifted off a bit further, even as he heard Soldier laugh. The pain in his back, stomach, and bottom were dulling to a pleasant ache, making his eye fluttered closed. The last thing he heard was, “like you said, I’ll think of something,” and then, much later, a soft, “goodnight Demoman.”

**Author's Note:**

> plz ignore “scout sings like an agnel” headcanon. I wrote that before Nathan did his bring me to life cover


End file.
